He chuckled at the image.
“Besides,” she continued, “you need to get that leg elevated and iced right away. Why don’t you come up to the apartment and rest it. I only need to open the shop and get the staff set up for the weekend. I can give you a ride home in an hour or two.”
She cracked the back door to look inside and, before he could see what was going on in the industrial-sized kitchen, she pushed him toward the stairway, practically lifting him up the first two steps.
“Are you trying to keep your employees from seeing us go to your apartment together?” He put his hand along the rail, trying to brace most of his weight so he could hobble up the rest of the way.
She flashed him a guilty look, and he waited to hear her denial. Instead, she peeked her head out of the stairwell. “Everyone should be in the front setting up the display cases. I don’t think they saw you.”
“Would it be horrible if they did?”
“Not horrible. I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression. It’s one thing for my girlfriends to tease me about you mercilessly, but I shouldn’t have to explain my personal life to my employees.”
What did he expect her to say? That she’d be honored to spend time with him? That she’d like everyone to think they had something intimate going on? He knew from experience not to get his hopes up, especially with a woman like her. She had a reputation to maintain. And Cooper wasn’t the kind of guy she wanted to parade around town. So it was good that she was spelling things out. Time to go back on high alert.
“I got it from here,” he said more severely than he’d intended when she’d opened the apartment door and tried to help him inside.
She startled as she stepped back, and he regretted his abrupt tone. But he needed to put a little distance between them, especially if she didn’t want the two of them to become any more gossip-worthy.
And judging from the knowing smirks and prying questions at the café and the market and the Little League field, the townspeople were talking already. It wouldn’t take much to prove to everyone that where there was smoke, there was fire.
“Fine. Go lie down on the sofa. I’ll get you some water and some ice and then I need to shower and head back downstairs.” While polite, her tone had cooled considerably.
“Sorry.” He glanced down. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I guess I’m hurting a little more than I’d like to admit.” Well, that was partly true. Except it was mostly his pride that was hurting.
“Thank you,” she said as she opened the freezer and reached for an ice pack.
“For what?” He’d been a jerk, and now she was thanking him?
“For acknowledging that you’re human.”
He ran his hands along his running clothes, trying to decide if they were too sweaty to sit on her white couch. His shorts were fine, but his T-shirt was still fairly damp so he took it off before settling onto the down-filled cushions.
She put a water bottle on the coffee table, then froze when she turned to hand him the ice pack.
“What’s wrong?” Had he messed up her perfect throw pillow placement?
She stared at his chest. “You’re not wearing...uh...you took off...” Color rushed to her cheeks and her eyes shot up to his before returning back to his torso.
She was totally checking him out. And judging from both her inability to finish her question and from the tightening of her nipples under her sports bra, she liked what she saw. He wanted to pump his fist in triumph, but something about the situation gave him a weird feeling of déjà vu.
Her gaze finally returned to his face and he smiled. In response, she threw the ice pack at him and practically ran down the hall, slamming the bathroom door behind her.
Chapter Nine
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: Shirts
Date: April 15
Hunter, tell your Gram that I already bought a suit so she can stop worrying about my wardrobe. Also, tell her that I appreciate the shirts she bought me when you guys went to Boise yesterday, but I don’t look so great in pink stripes or the “new spring patterns.” Contrary to what she told you, the G.I. Joe look is always in style. I know she means well, but how do I tell her no more shopping trips on my behalf?
Cooper
Maxine checked the clock on the wall above the stainless steel bakery sink. It was almost one o’clock, and she took off her apron, intending to turn over the shop reins to her weekend manager. She needed to drive Cooper home, but when she’d gone upstairs to check on him an hour ago, he was still sleeping. So she’d made a turkey and provolone sandwich for herself to take downstairs and one for him to eat when he woke up. She’d also left a note telling him to make himself at home and propped it beside a bottle of ibuprofen in case his knee was still hurting.
She couldn’t believe she’d acted like such a blushing prude who’d never seen a man’s bare chest. In the shower, she’d resolved to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She didn’t want to succumb to a repeat performance of that first night he was in town when she’d gone back to his cabin. Luckily, by the time she came out of her room to go downstairs, he was sound asleep on the couch. She threw a soft blanket over him before hurrying out the door.
Hopefully, he still had the blanket covering him when she got back up there. She took each stair as though she was a convicted death row inmate—dead woman walking. With each echo her boot heel made on the wood step, she reminded herself, I am a mother. I am a businesswoman. I am mature enough to handle a half-naked man in my home.
But when she tiptoed into the room, she saw that the sofa was empty. The white throw was neatly folded by the stacked pillows, and the plate holding the turkey sandwich wasn’t where she’d left it.
Where in the world was he? Had he come downstairs and slipped out the back door while she’d been working?
The green shirt he’d been wearing earlier now lay wadded up on the floor near the coffee table. He wouldn’t leave without that, would he?
She walked around the kitchen, not wanting to think of what she’d do if she found him in her bedroom. Luckily, a ribbon of light glowing from underneath the bathroom door explained where he was. Good. At least he was awake and able to move around.
The empty sandwich plate rested in the sink. She rinsed it off before putting it in the dishwasher, then fumbled around in the kitchen, trying to make herself seem busy. The bathroom door clicked and, realizing he was coming out, she quickly opened the freezer, afraid to make eye contact with him. She even kept her back turned, pretending that she was looking for something deep inside the subzero depths.
She barely heard him approach, but the fresh tang of her eucalyptus soap swirled in the air.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I took a shower.” His comment forced her to turn and acknowledge him, but the moment she laid eyes on his damp and masculine form, she froze.
Whoa. He was wearing his shorts, thankfully, but his hair was wet, and he was still shirtless. As he walked toward her, she couldn’t take her eyes off the muscles rippling in his chest, which was dusted with hairs that trailed below his waistband.
“Maxine?”
She couldn’t answer. She was too mesmerized by his ripped abdomen.
“Maxine?” he said again, and she had to drag her eyes upward as if they were heavier than ten-pound bags of flour.
He stepped closer, and she leaned back against the kitchen counter to steady her shaky legs.
“Huh?” she managed to get out.
Cooper was now only inches away. He lifted his hand to her face, his fingers skimming her cheek and setting her skin on fire. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m not going to be able to control myself anymore.”
She didn’t want him to c
ontrol himself. And she was sure as heck tired of controlling herself. So she raised her lips in invitation.
And that was all it took.
His hand slipped to the back of her neck and he pulled her in for a searing kiss. His lips were soft and warm, yet demanding. But no more so than her own. She leaned into him, opening her mouth, seeking more of him. Her fingers traveled up his bare torso, exploring the coiled tension in the muscles of his chest. He angled his head, deepening their kiss—and her response.
Besides that moment at the cabin, it had been a long time since she’d been kissed. Or since she’d wanted to kiss anyone. Could he tell?
She was a runner and knew she should be pacing herself, but the intense sensation of his stroking tongue made her want to sprint to the finish line.
She pressed her body in tighter against his, feeling the strength of his desire through his thin athletic shorts.
This man made her body melt just as quickly as he made her temper flare. Instead of fighting it, she embraced the heat, craved it. She would have asked for more, but her mouth was so busy, her only utterance was a soft moan.
He must have understood perfectly because he let go of her hair and grabbed her hips. Before she knew it, she was weightless. She felt the cool granite of the countertop through her jeans. Her legs parted to draw him in closer, then wrapped around him to keep him there.
One of his hands pressed against her lower back, pulling her against his arousal. His other hand tugged her blouse free of her waistband, then made its way upward, until his fingers reached the lace of her bra.
It was too much, yet at the same time not nearly enough. Her body buzzed, and her mind raced trying to keep up.
She arched her back, filling his palm with her breast, while he nipped at her swollen lips.
“You like this?” he asked, grazing a thumb over her nipple.
She nodded, ready to rip open the buttons of her shirt to give him more access.
“I’ve been dreaming of this ever since that first time I saw you,” he continued, his lips trailing down her neck.
“I wanted you to hold me like this again, but I thought you hated me.”
“I could never hate you.”
As he started unbuttoning her blouse, she gripped the counter as leverage so she could push the throbbing center between her legs against him, knowing that only his body could ease her ache.
But he stopped and stared at her.
Had she been too forward? Did he think she was out of control? Had she done something wrong?
“Did you say hold you again?” he asked.
She nodded, unlocking her ankles and slowly letting her legs dangle off the countertop, not sure how things had shifted so suddenly. Or why. She sat up straighter and tried to pull the ends of her shirt together.
But his fingers still held her buttons and he wasn’t letting go, even though he continued to look at her with less passion and more clarity. “When did we do this before?”
“That first night at the cabin, when I brought you the groceries. You opened the door in your...” she gestured at his running shorts, which weren’t much more than boxers now “...and, well, it wasn’t like this, but you...uh...you know. Things were... Well, we got all caught up in...”
Damn. Could she sound any more like an idiot?
“I thought I dreamed that.”
At least he hadn’t completely forgotten. “Nope, it wasn’t a dream.”
“Then, thank you.” His hands slid down to her thighs and moved them back into position around his waist.
“For what?” Her mortification hadn’t lessened, yet her legs pulled him in tighter, the damn traitors.
“For the groceries.” He kissed her neck. “For coming back that night.” He kissed her jaw. “And for this.” His lips dipped back down to hers, just as her cell phone blasted out the theme song from Indiana Jones.
“Hunter!” She scrambled back so unexpectedly, she launched herself halfway across the counter and almost into the sink.
“Oh, crap. Where is he?” Cooper turned to the door, while trying to tug his nonexistent shirt into place.
“The phone.” Maxine reached her purse. “Hunter’s calling me. That’s his ringtone.” She took three breaths and heaved herself off the granite countertop before sliding her finger across the screen.
Cooper let out a sigh and ran his hand through his damp hair. While she answered, he limped over to the sofa and bent to retrieve his shirt.
“What’s up, sweetie?”
“Who’s supposed to pick me up from school today?” Hunter asked. “I’m pretty sure it’s not Cooper because he’s usually here a few minutes before the bell rings.”
Her gaze flew to the clock on the microwave, and she grabbed her purse. How could she have gotten so caught up in lust that she’d nearly forgotten her child at school?
“I’m on my way. I got tied up in the...” When she caught a glimpse of Cooper’s smug expression, she had to turn away. “Ah...in the kitchen. I’m leaving right now. Are there any teachers you can hang out with until I get there?”
“There’s always someone in the office. And in the detention room.”
“Just give me ten minutes.” She had her keys in her hand and was walking toward the door when Cooper waved his arms in the air in the silent universal signal for, “Hey, look over here.”
What? She asked with her eyes since she couldn’t very well say it out loud.
“I need a ride home,” he mouthed.
Damn. She couldn’t very well leave him at the apartment. And she couldn’t take him home first and abandon Hunter at the school any longer. How was she going to deal with this?
If sharing a heated kiss with Gunny Heartthrob had just complicated her life, how much more complicated would it become when Hunter saw the two of them arrive together, especially if Cooper didn’t wipe that smug grin off his face?
* * *
“That’s so cool that my mom was driving by and could give you a ride home,” Hunter told Cooper as Maxine pulled out of the school parking lot. “Just think, if she hadn’t been late to pick me up, she never would have seen you limping on the side of the road.”
Cooper stretched out his knee, trying to rub away the tenderness. He felt guilty about misleading the boy, but not as guilty as he would’ve felt if he’d finished what he and Maxine had started on that kitchen counter.
It wasn’t as if they’d done anything wrong. They were two healthy, single adults. Both of them would’ve been physically satisfied, but he had a feeling she would have regretted it afterward. Maxine was a mom with high standards and a reputation to consider, and Cooper wasn’t any woman’s idea of a long-term commitment.
Not to mention, Hunter was like his... Well, he didn’t quite know what Hunter was to him, but it was a lot more than a pen pal. Cooper’d never gotten to experience the father–son relationship, but he imagined it might be something similar to what he and the boy had.
Did he honestly think the parental role he experienced with Hunter would easily transfer over to a corresponding bond with the kid’s mom, as well?
No way. He wasn’t relationship material—and he had the divorce decree to prove it.
Besides, Maxine had made it clear that morning in the bakery that she wasn’t looking for a second husband. And on several occasions she’d gone overboard in conveying that she definitely didn’t need a replacement dad for her son. Not to mention, every time they were in public, the woman acted as if he was an embarrassing case of foot fungus.
He could take a hint.
It didn’t stop him from wishing that Maxine would get off her girl-power kick and see that Cooper could be a nice addition to their lives. Of course, he wasn’t going to be the one to force the issue and risk rejection. If they went that route, she would need
to come to that realization all on her own. But in spite of the way she’d looked at him earlier and her heated response to his kiss, he sensed that enlightenment might not come at all, especially since she thought her association with him might mar her stellar position in the community.
He and Maxine hadn’t said a word to each other during the short drive from the bakery to the school, and he decided he’d follow her lead.
For now.
If she wanted to pretend that nothing had happened between them, then he’d go right along pretending with her. Cooper had grown up being ignored and Lindsay, his ex-wife, had taught him the art of the silent treatment. He’d been such a great student that he’d learned to stop caring when a woman was giving him the cold shoulder.
Unfortunately, Maxine had such sexy, soft shoulders, which had been anything but cold when she nestled up under him when he’d limped back into town. And there was no way he could ignore them or those long legs that had wrapped around his waist and held him so tightly just minutes ago.
Crap.
He looked down at the swelling in his running shorts and adjusted his seat belt. Of course, Maxine chose that exact moment to look at what he was doing. He clasped his hands together in his lap and looked out the window, desperate to find something neutral to talk about.
“Does it smell like rotten chicken in here to you guys?” Cooper asked.
“It totally does. Mom said she got one from the store a few weeks ago and it leaked all over the back. She sprayed some air freshener in here, but the stinky smell is coming back.”
Maxine’s cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink, and she kept her eyes glued to the road, apparently not wanting to talk about the chicken any more than she wanted to talk about what had gone on in her kitchen earlier.
“Anyway,” Hunter continued, apparently not noticing the tension between the adults in the front seat, “since it’s spring break, Jake Marconi is having a sleepover at his house next week, and he invited me.”
Maxine kept her eyes on the road. “I didn’t realize you and Jake had become friends.”
A Marine for His Mom (Sugar Falls, Idaho) Page 14